


Free Bodies and Shackled Minds

by Wheelies4urfeelies



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alliances, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Childhood Trauma, Closure, Dark Past, Developing Friendships, Eventual Romance, Grief/Mourning, Other, Reconciliation, Sexual Confusion, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2020-12-24 14:04:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21100691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wheelies4urfeelies/pseuds/Wheelies4urfeelies
Summary: For ten years, Root had peacefully sailed the open sea with the Barbell pirates, but upon the Government’s abolishment of the Warlord system, he suddenly finds his beloved crew stuck in a potential alliance with one of the most powerful pirate groups in all of Paradise. Despite the possibility of a mighty ally, Root is skeptical about his captain’s decision, and even more concerned about any potential conflict that may spark from it.The Kuja were certainly not to be trifled with, and the chances of peaceful negotiations were terribly slim.





	1. Skepticism

**Author's Note:**

> I have no explanation for this fic other than I absolutely love the Kuja pirates, and wanted to dish out some random Ocs into the One Piece world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Perspective will mainly focus on Root.

The frantic shouting emitting from the deck was truly aggravating, as was the violent thrashing of the ship. Root had initially hoped to be cooped up in his study for the remainder of their voyage, but his plans were cut short by an unexpected storm. Shakily bringing his hand to the paper of the journal in front of him, he finally managed to scratch in a single letter, only for the ink bottle occupying his left to spill with a sudden jerk of the ship, splattering everywhere and staining the pages. 

He heaved an aggrieved sigh, slamming his quill down against the desk. Upon making an attempt to flip to a fresh page, he heard the familiar voice of his accomplice call from outside the cabin. 

“Root, get up here! Vervain wants to talk with ya!” 

Tentatively, he sat up from his desk, giving the stained papers and spilt ink a scornful look before making his way to the door. As he swung it open, he found his crew-mate with a raised fist, seconds away from knocking on the door again. 

“What does she want, Wister?” He asked, looking down at the significantly smaller man completely devoid of mirth. 

As Wister was about to reply, the frantic voices of fellow crew-mate’s called the navigator’s name, and he made a scramble for the small flight of stairs leading to the deck. 

“Oh, hell if I know! Just go to her quarters so she doesn’t bug me about fetching you again!” He gasped through exasperated huffing. 

Root followed the man with a brisk stride, eventually finding himself being assaulted by unrelenting rain. He then quickly glanced up at the overcast sky, and back to his crew mates scrambling along the deck. Of course, Wister was at the wheel, trying his absolute best to keep a grip on the large drenched map in his hands, all the while barking orders at everyone else. As Root made his way up to the quarterdeck where his captain’s quarters resided, he heard the bone shattering crack of what seemed to be stacks of cargo, then followed by more aggrieved yelling. Upon making his way to the door he quickly swung it open, then proceeding to slam it shut to evade the falling rain.

-

“Ah, dear Root.” The voice of his captain called from across the cabin. “I presume your studies are going smoothly?” 

He looked over to see the woman watering a small bundle of lilacs at her desk, humming peacefully despite the unruly ruckus outside. Root walked closer, eventually slumping down in a velvet couch not too far off from the desk, and she then gave him a warm smile, setting down the small watering can. Atop the desk he saw multiple newspaper clippings strewn about, marked with ink. 

“Not exactly.” He replied. 

She gave a chuckle, picking up one of the pieces of paper. 

“Well, I’m sure the storm will clear up soon.” She said, glancing down at the newspaper. “Then your writing wont be interrupted by unruly waves.” 

“I’m sure you didn’t call me in here just to talk about the weather.” He interrupted, folding his hands over his lap. 

Vervain let out a loud cackle in response, throwing her head back in hilarity. Upon noticing his mundane expression, she immediately stopped. 

“You know where we’re headed, right?” She said, folding the paper in her hands gingerly. “All the way out onto the Calm Belt?” 

Once he gave a perplexed glance in response to her inquiry, she let out another amused chuckle. 

“Well, I will be discussing terms of agreement between us and a few potential allies.” She said. “Of course, I wanted your input before any of that happens.” 

“Potential allies?” He repeated, and her expression lit up like fireworks. 

“I’m sure you know about the Government and their abolishment of the Warlord system.” Vervain said, sifting through newspapers. “And since those Warlords no longer have protection...” 

Root was slowly becoming more and more skeptical as his captain continued to drone on, dreadfully awaiting the conclusion of her rant. Vervain had always been bat-shit insane, but at this point she was an absolute lunatic. 

“You’re trying to form an alliance with one of them?” He asked, and she gave a wide smirk. 

“Exactly.” 

“How do you know they won’t refuse?” 

Vervain sat back down in her desk, promptly picking up the watering can once more. 

“The Warlord I seek rules over a pirate nation.” She whistled. “We could be their protection from the Government.” 

“How do you expect us to fight off thousands upon thousands of Marine fleets?” He retorted. “Besides, I’m sure they’ve already been attacked in the last few months.” 

“Root, do you doubt my abilities?” She asked, quirking an eyebrow at him. 

“Frankly ma’am, yes.” 

“In that case, if push comes to shove and I’m about to be executed for my ignorance, then you and everyone else on this ship have the right to leave the crew and live out the rest of your lives peacefully.” 

“You talk as if failing to persuade this Warlord is inevitable.” Root sighed. 

“I’m sure she’ll at least take my offer into consideration.” Vervain replied. “If not, then we’ll see what happens and go from there.” 

“Why, though?” He sighed. 

She raised an eyebrow. 

“Why bother with forming an alliance with a Warlord? Isn’t just sailing around good enough for you?” 

Vervain leaned back in her seat, propping her feet atop the desk. After a moment of silence, she started to giggle like a child. 

“I’m getting old and the world is changing.” She said. “This pirating career of mine is all I have left, so I might as well do something with it.” 

Root shook his head, quickly sitting up from the couch. As he was about to take his leave, Vervain spoke up once more. 

“I wouldn’t be too pessimistic, Root.” She said. “I’m sure you’ll gain something from all of this eventually.” 

The thought crossed his mind briefly, but he immediately shoved it away, slamming the door of the cabin shut.

-

After many hours of unrelenting rain and overcast skies, the storm had eventually died down, giving Root the chance to finally return to his cabin without the threat of jittering ink bottles and stained pages of paper. He gingerly sat back down in his desk, pulling out his small journal once again. Upon grabbing a spare bottle of ink from one of the drawers, faint footsteps echoed throughout the halls outside, eventually stopping at his doorway. Before the person on the other side even had the chance to say anything, Root let out an annoyed groan. 

“Rootie! Lemme come in!” Wister called, and Root rubbed his temples in agony. “Amary too.” 

“No.” He replied. 

“Too bad! We share this cabin!” Wister retorted, followed by the sound of the door swinging open. 

Root glanced back at the two men with a displeased look, and Wister returned the gaze with a mocking expression. Amary didn’t seem to care about their quarrel, as he immediately retreated to one of the bunk beds next to the desk, burrowing in the sheets like a rat. 

“Whatcha writin’ about?” Wister asked, sauntering next to Root. 

He merely stared down at the empty pages, and then glared back at Wister. 

“Nothing, thanks to you.” He muttered. 

“Y’know, I don’t get it.” Wister replied, snatching up the journal. “You never write about anything interesting, just boring things.” 

“Let people be content with their own thoughts, Wister.” Amary called from the pile of blankets. “His writing is none of your business.” 

Root felt grateful for Amary, as he was the only other person on this ship with the decency to respect other’s privacy. He was reserved, and didn’t stick his nose where it needn’t be, and of course Wister was the polar opposite, digging into things that didn’t concern him in the slightest. 

“So sad that you don’t write anything salacious.” Wister continued, flipping through the pages. “Then I’d actually get a kick out of your mundane writing.” 

Root reached over, plucking the journal from Wister’s hands. He then set it back on the desk, completely ignoring his accomplice’s piercing gaze. 

“You’re just a simple-minded pervert who can’t appreciate the complexities of the human mind.” He said. 

“Geez, with talk like that you seem more like a pretentious scholar than a former gladiator.” Wister sighed, rolling his eyes. “And you’ve got a lot of gall to call me a pervert, considering you walk around shirtless with nothing but a hood.” 

“It wasn’t gladiatorial combat, it was forced systematic murder.” Root retorted. “And I don’t wear shirts because they make my skin itch.” 

“Y’know I think I’d actually prefer you as a dumb ol’ bruiser.” Wister replied, crawling into the bunk atop Amary. “Then you wouldn’t be such a contrarian.” 

Root gave an exasperated huff, promptly lighting the lantern atop his desk. 

“How about instead of writing the details of how pretty flowers are, you could write something better?” Wister added, burrowing into his pillow. “Y’know, like the beauty of a woman’s bosom.” 

Before Root had the chance to reply, Amary raised his hand from his pile to smack Wister in the head, causing the smaller man to let out a spurt of curses. Root then returned to his journal, dipping the tip of his quill into the bottle of ink next to it. Within seconds, Wister was fast asleep, snoring like a pig. 

“You shouldn’t let him get under your skin about the gladiator thing.” Amary suddenly said, causing Root to jump. 

Root rubbed his forehead, letting out a soft sigh. 

“It doesn’t bug me that much anymore.” 

The scruff blond gave a loud scoff from under the sheets, undoubtedly shaking his head in disagreement as well. 

“You know I hate lying.” Amary said. 

“Sorry.” Root mumbled.

\- 

Root quirked an eyebrow at the newspaper in front of him, and then at his accomplice sitting across the table. She merely smiled, and he felt a pit of dread in his stomach. 

“Tomorrow?” He asked, and she nodded in response. 

“We must seize the moment, my friend.” She laughed, taking a sip of her tea. “The sooner we offer our services, the better.” 

Root stabbed a fork through the ham in front of him, promptly shoving a slice into his mouth. 

“I don’t know how we’ll be of use to them.” Wister called from across the kitchen. “Aren’t they already a big nation of pirates? What more could we give em that they don’t already got?” 

Vervain turned around to face the small man, keeping her wide smile. 

“You’ll know the extent of my plan in time.” She said. “It’ll be a surprise for them just as much as you.” 

Wister clicked his tongue distastefully, returning his attention to the pan of eggs behind him. Upon reaching for one, his hand was slapped violently by Amary, who gave a subtle frown. 

“Wait.” He said in a much too threatening voice. 

Wister rubbed his newfound wound, returning to the large table where Root and Vervain sat. 

“Anyway...” he muttered. “I hope this plan of yours doesn’t backfire and kill us all.” 

Vervain gave her signature laugh and shook her head, taking another sip from her tea. “If it kills anyone, it’ll be me. So don’t you worry about a single hair on your little head getting hurt.” 

Wister subconsciously patted back his hair, giving a silent, content nod. 

“We don’t need to make an alliance with anyone.” Root piped in, practically scarfing down his breakfast. “We could just keep up sailing along, minding our own business.” 

“Your pacifism is unbearably annoying.” Wister sighed, resting his head in the palm of his hand. “I’ll support whatever you do, Captain.” 

“Wonderful.” Vervain smiled. 

“Ey, what about you, Amary?” Wister called, looking back at his crew-mate. “What do you think about it?” 

The blond said nothing for a while, but then glanced back at the three of them slowly. 

“Pointless.” He said, immediately returning his task of cooking eggs. “We’re bound to get betrayed once we’re not of use to them.” 

“Cheerful.” Wister muttered. 

“It’s not that far-fetched.” Root replied. “They could just kill Vervain and take her Devil Fruit.” 

“Stop talking about it like it’s an inevitability.” Vervain interjected, giving a wave of dismissal. “Bumming me out.” 

“You’re always so nonchalant about dying though.” Root replied. 

“I can make those jokes.” She retorted. “You guys can’t.” 

Wister let out a chuckle, and Root merely rolled his eyes in response. 

“By the way, where’d Mantles run off to?” Vervain asked. 

“Up on the deck.” Wister replied, pointing at the ceiling. “Morning stretches or some dumb shit.” 

“I though you liked watching her do morning stretches.” Vervain said, raising an eyebrow. 

Wister paused, a hint of blush forming on his cheeks. 

“I got bored of it after the first week.” He scoffed. 

“Mhm.” Vervain smiled. 

“Don’t patronize me.” 

Root watched patiently as the captain and navigator fought against each other in a verbal spar, contently eating his plate of ham. Upon finishing, he heaved himself out of his chair and started a brisk stride for the door.

“Oh, I forgot to mention, Root.” Vervain called, causing him to halt at the doorway. “While we’re on the topic of Mantles, she talked about wanting to spar with you yesterday.” 

He cocked his head to the side, quirking an eyebrow. 

“We haven’t sparred in at least three years.” He replied. 

Vervain merely shrugged, finishing her tea. 

“Said something about wanting to see how well your Haki can stand up against her kicks.” She said.

-

“Well well well, in the mood for a little duel, are we?” She taunted, bending down to stretch her abnormally long legs. 

Root merely shrugged, giving his neck a scratch. She let out a chuckle at his aloofness. 

“Vervain said you wanted to spar.” He said. “Something about testing my Haki.” 

“I couldn’t catch you yesterday, unfortunately, considering you were cooped up in that cabin of yours for hours.” She replied. “I was interesting in testing your defensive abilities.” 

He glanced up at the quarterdeck where Wister and Vervain sat, both of them leaning in with an excess amount of anticipation. Wister more focused on Mantles’ backside were as Vervain was giving Root a proud motherly look. He returned his gaze up to his long-legged accomplice, who was waiting patiently. 

“Why’s that?” He asked. 

“Our new allies have quite the experience in Haki.” She replied, tapping her foot against the wooden floor. “I’d like to see how good I am at breaking through it.” 

“So I’m your human punching bag for the morning?” He sighed, shaking his head. 

“A-yup.” She replied, giving a smirk. 

Root begrudgingly raised his fists, his forearms quickly coated in the familiar ebony glow of Armament Haki. Mantles gave another smile, all before she gave a swift kick to his left. It was easy enough to counter, but he knew it was just a warm-up. Soon, she had begun a series of swift windmill kicks, pushing him back farther and farther with each blow. 

“Counter!” Vervain called from the quarterdeck. 

Root rolled his eyes, keeping his forearms pressed firmly together as her force pushed him back even farther. In a sudden moment he then received a kick to the jaw, causing him to fall flat on his ass. Mantles gave a patronizing grin, and he glared up at the brunette. 

“Pay attention, or I’ll kick you overboard.” She said, raising her leg in anticipation. 

He gave an exasperated huff, heaving himself back to his feet. Unfortunately, he wasn’t given any time to react as Mantles jabbed him in the stomach, which almost sent him right back into the wooden floorboards. He quickly caught his balance though, and returned with a swipe at her thigh. She evaded it easily, kicking him square in the nose. 

“Have you gotten rusty?” She laughed. 

He wiped the spurt of blood from his nose, giving another annoyed huff. 

“Just warming up.” He muttered, rolling his shoulders. 

As he made an attempt to lunge at her, she took a small step to the right, giving another blow to his rib cage. While trying to whip around to throw another punch, Mantles drove her heel into his back, shoving him to the ground. From across the deck, Vervain gave a boo, but Wister whooped and cheered as if his defeat were the most amusing thing in the world. 

“Pick up the pace.” Mantles sighed. “I can’t test my Haki breaking ability if you can’t hit me.” 

“I’ve gotten enough bruises.” He sighed, wiping away the blood from his nose again. “You win.” 

“Ugh, so boring.” She replied, retracting her foot from his back. “You used to be able to kick my ass all the time.” 

“I use Armament for protecting.” He said, propping himself up on his knees. “Don’t really like offense.” 

“Hm.” She replied, pulling him up to his feet by his hood. “Hopefully it’ll be enough to counter the Warlord’s goons.” 

“I’m just slow.” He mumbled, scratching his neck. “My Haki’s fine.” 

Mantles pushed Root’s hood back to ruffle his short brown hair, and he gave a quiet protest. She then pulled him into a headlock, to which he protested against by gagging. 

“You’d better get some more practice in by tomorrow, then.” She chuckled, finally letting him go as he began to slap her arm due to his need of oxygen. 

-

Root scratched another word into the journal, adding to the large column written on the page. He found naming things at night were hard, considering it was always very difficult to see what you wanted to write. Though, he supposed constellations were fairly easy to see at such a time. After a long period of non-stop writing, he finally set the quill down against the railing in front of him, satisfied with the newfound list of constellations. 

The sound of footsteps then hit his ears, and he turned around to see Vervain, holding a potted plant in her arms.

“Mind if I join?” She asked, shooting him her usual smile. 

Before he could give a response, she was already standing next to him with her plant resting against the railing. A wave of silence passed between them before Vervain must have decided it was much too boring. 

“What’re you jottin’ down now?” She asked, peeking over to look at the pages. 

“Stars.” He replied, closing the small book. “Thought they looked nice.” 

“You still iffy about the alliance?” 

“You could have just asked that first.” 

“Answer the question, Root.” 

“I think it’s pointless.” 

Vervain gave him a harsh slap on the back, then immediately pulled him into a side hug of sorts. He gave a wince at the agitation of his bruises.

“If it goes shitty, then I’ll let you take the responsibility of reprimanding me for my bad decisions.” She chuckled. 

“Which Warlord did you have your sights set on?” He replied, shrugging away her hug. 

“A Pirate Empress of sorts.” She replied, whistling softly. 

He gave a frown, and she returned it with a wide smile. 

“Boa Hancock?” He asked, and she nodded. 

“She’d make a good ally.” 

“She’s not easily persuaded.”

“Good thing I’m equally as stubborn.” Vervain winked. “She’ll have to go through hell and back to get rid of me.” 

“She might just kill you.” Root said. 

“You’re underestimating me again.” She chuckled. “What have I told you about doing that?” 

“I have every right to believe she’ll turn you to stone and throw you in the ocean.” He retorted.

“We’ll see.” She hummed, glancing down at her potted plant. “I’m sure she’ll at least listen to half of what I have to say.” 

“How do you expect to get to Amazon Lily safely?” He continued. “I’m sure we’ll also have SeaKings to deal with.” 

“Nothing we cant handle.” She replied, plucking a petal from the flower. “Our only concern is the locals.” 

“You had better not get us killed.” 

“Again, the only one who might die from this is me, so you all don’t have anything to worry about.” 

Root paused for a moment and glanced back up at the night sky, doubt still lingering within him. 

“Did you tell Tiger-lily yet?” He sighed, and she gave an amused snort. 

“Tilly’s been sleeping all month.” She said. “I’ll wake and inform him once we get there.” 

“He won’t like waking up to a dispute between pirates.” Root mumbled. 

“He’s always moody, I’ll just use my irresistible charm to persuade him again.” She replied dramatically, flashing a thumbs up. 

Root gingerly picked up his journal, and made his way to the stairs leading to the barracks. 

“Don’t get killed tomorrow.” He said. 

“No promises.” She smirked. 

Before escaping to the lower deck he shot her an exaggerated eye roll, to which she responded by giving a forced laugh.

\- 

“Amazon Lily?” Amary questioned, prompting a small nod from Root. 

The scruffy blond propped himself against his pillow, methodically fiddling with his small pocket knife. Meanwhile Root sat in his desk, jotting down more random things in his small journal. 

“Wister’ll be absolute ecstatic when he finds out tomorrow.” Amary muttered, glancing up at said man snoring loudly in the bunk above him. 

“I’m sure Mantles will keep his perverted actions in line.” Root replied, leaning back in his chair. 

“A whole island of women though.” Amary mused. “No wonder Vervain hadn’t told him.” 

“I wouldn’t have been able to bear his non-stop babbling for the last few days if she had.” Root muttered. “Hopefully she’ll continue to keep it a secret until we actually get there.” 

Amary gave a ‘tch’ flinging his knife into the bed post. 

“He’s the navigator.” He said. “I’m sure he’ll know about it the moment we’re even within a hundred mile radius.” 

Root shook his head, setting his journal in a small drawer of the desk. Slowly, he then retired to his bed. 

“This alliance might just backfire.” Root said, patting his pillow. 

“Nothing we can do about it.” Amary replied. “The captain’s decision isn’t ours to judge, just to go along with.” 

“Weren’t you against it?” Root sighed. 

“I was, but now I suppose we can’t do much to oppose Vervain.” He replied. “She’s terribly stubborn.”

It wasn’t an insult or assumption, it was simply a fact. 

“Very self aware, too.”

“Indeed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve decided that Root is proficient at defense, whereas Mantles’ strength lies in offense. Each crew member is either good at one or the other, unlike Vervain who has a decent grasp of both.


	2. Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pacing, what IS that?

He was rendered completely immobile, yet hearing the continuous string of hushed whispering was practically urging him to move. It continued on for what seemed like forever, until Root opened his eyes to see the face of his crew-mate Wister staring down at him. His initial shock was overtaken by confusion and a hint of anger, primarily due to the fact that he had been woken at the most ludicrous time, and that Root’s insufferable crew-mate was putting all his weight into his chest.

“What are you doing?” Root muttered, feeling the smaller man’s knees dig into his sternum.

“Waking you up.” He replied, patting the man’s shoulders awkwardly.

“Mind telling why that requires you to crawl on top of me?” Root sighed, glancing around the dimly lit cabin.

Amary was nowhere to be found, and the small journal that usually sat atop the desk in the middle of the cabin had vanished as well.

“I was thinking about waking you up with a book to the head, but unfortunately I wasn’t quick enough.” Wister retorted.

Root rolled his eyes and shoved the small man onto the floor, completely satisfied with the pained yelp that escaped him.

“What’d you wake me up this late for?” Root asked, letting out a soft yawn.

“We arrived sooner than expected.” Wister replied. “Vervain wanted you and Amary to get ready so you two could leave as quick as possible.”

“Why does she want us to leave?”

“Apparently you’ll be scouting the terrain.” He replied.

~

As Wister had said, their captain was certainly in an unpleasant mood. Root was genuinely surprised though, as she was usually a cheerful woman. But at this point she seemed to have malformed into a completely different person. He followed behind the woman, struggling to keep up with her quick stride.

“Me and Mantles will dock on the eastern side of Amazon Lily, you and Amary will dock on the western side.” She said, examining the map in her hands.

“Are you sure we should be doing this on such short notice? Can’t we take another day to settle in?” Root asked.

She shook her head in an almost violent manner, tapping the thin map repeatedly with her index finger.

“Comply with my orders, despite any qualms you may have.” She replied, hooking her arm around his neck to pull him closer as they walked. “The sooner we do this, the better.”

“What if-“ He stuttered, but was abruptly cut off.

“If you run into locals, do not engage. If you get lost, look at your map. If you get attacked by wild beasts, cook them up and serve them on a plate.”

Root stayed silent despite his remaining questions and giving a hesitant nod in response. Seeming satisfied, Vervain quickly rolled up the map in her hands, and promptly shoved it into his arms, proceeding to then give him a harsh slap on the back.

“Both groups will loop around and rendezvous at the southern side accordingly.”

Root opened the map to see a multitude of red lines and marks surrounding the island plastered against the paper. He looked up to give his captain a perplexed expression, but she was already walking off elsewhere, barking orders to others on the deck. Heaving an aggravated sigh, he tucked the map into his sash. After a moment of glancing across the deck he spotted Amary sitting by the railing, who was busy rifling through stacks of cargo. The man gave Root a nod of acknowledgement as he walked over.

“We don’t even have half the supplies we need for this.” Amary muttered, pulling out a small knapsack from one of the crates. “Vervain’s gone insane.”

“No point in trying to change her mind.” Root replied, taking a peek at the contents of the crate.

Inside lay nothing but a box, three bottles of wine, and a small bag of medical supplies. Root took a glance at the other crates, all of which were completely empty.

“Is this really all that’s left?” Root inquired.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Amary replied. “And if the Kuja don’t accept our offer, we have no chance of leaving the Calm Belt without starving ourselves.”

“We had so much yesterday, though.”

“Blame Tiger-Lily for that. He finally woke up and decided to raid our provisions.”

“In less than a few hours? There was enough to last us five more months!” Root exclaimed.

“Needed a little midnight snack, I suppose.” Amary mumbled sarcastically. “Thanks to him, you and I have to do a little bit of hunting on our way towards the rendezvous.”

“Does Vervain know?”

“She said she’d deal with it, but I doubt she will.” Amary said. “She never holds him accountable for shit like this.”

Upon hearing the sound of a high-pitched voice invade his ears, Root looked to the quarterdeck to see Mantles in a heated verbal spar with their captain. After a few more moments of arguing, Mantles stormed off in a fit of rage, heading below deck. Vervain herself then proceeded to saunter over towards Amary and Root, bearing a strained smile on her face.

“You boys best be heading out.” She said. “We have a lot to do today.”

~

Something about the dark ravenous pits of a jungle were so unsettling and foreign, that Root was more than willing to stay back by the boat instead of even make an attempt to wander through it. Naturally though, Amary didn’t let him achieve his dream of staying alive, and had ended up dragging him off into the abyss so they could suffer together, and considering their dwindling supplies, he had no choice.

While walking through the greenery, Root glanced down at the map in his hands, eyeing the faint red marks drawn by his captain. Unfortunately, his lantern’s light frequently went out, making it harder and harder to see through the growing darkness.

He glanced back at Amary, whose Lantern was also suffering the same thing.

“We should turn off the lanterns.” Root said.

“And do what? We’ll just be sitting ducks for any wild animal looking for a meal out here.” Amary replied. “Not to mention any Amazons that might want to skin us for trespassing.”

“Once these lanterns run out of gas, we’re left to our own devices.” Root retorted, cutting the gas from his lantern. “The moon can give us enough light until we reach the river Vervain marked.”

Amary paused for a moment, all before begrudgingly cutting the gas from his lantern as well. As they continued to steadily traverse through the greenery, the moon seemed to grow darker and darker. Root squinted down at the map in his hands, struggling to read the words. He then felt a hand grasp his shoulder, and turned around to see the presumed outline of his companion.

“This isn’t effective.” He muttered, snatching the map from his hands. “We can just use one lantern and save the other.”

Before Root could manage to utter a syllable in protest, Amary lit his lantern, holding it by the handle with his teeth. “See? We’re completely turned arou-“

The sudden shattering of glass cut Amary off halfway, and a spurt of blood escaped his lips as he slumped forward into Root’s arms. He clawed at his shoulder desperately, trying his absolute best to form a coherent sentence. Upon further inspection, Root noticed the fletching of an arrow jutting out his crew-mate’s scapula.

“Kuj-“ Amary coughed, blood enveloping his mouth.

The sound of incoming footsteps hit Root’s ears, and he whipped around to see a dark figure charging towards them both, the glint of a dagger catching his eye. He shoved Amary to the side with reckless abandon, fully intent on taking the attacker head on, and despite the obvious difference in height and weight, he was somehow tackled to the ground with ease.

He managed to catch a glimpse of the enemy, golden locks and crystal blue eyes being the most prominent features.

“Wait!” He ordered, and to his surprise, she paused in the action of plunging the blade through his throat.

“We don’t want to hurt yo-“ he started, but was promptly cut off by her being thrown off of him in a sudden motion.

Her body slammed against a tree lifelessly, and Root looked up to see Amary at his side, hunched over and coughing up blood.

“There’s another one in the trees.” He gagged.

“We don’t need to fight them.” Root insisted, heaving himself up from the ground.

“They want us dead, Root.” Amary grunted, clutching his newfound wound.

Another arrow whizzed past Root and he ducked for cover, the head nicking him in the bicep. He then scrambled to his feet, and yanked Amary along as he ran through the darkness. Voices called out from behind but he continued to run, desperately trying to help his injured comrade along.

“The...map’s back there.” Amary wheezed, hooking his arms around Root’s neck.

“I’m more concerned about your wound!” Root retorted. “You’re getting weaker by the second.”

“Those arrows aren’t normal.” Amary muttered. “Must be coated in some type of poison.”

As Root took another step his knees gave out, and he hit the ground with a violent thrash. A mixture of blood and dirt enveloped his mouth as Amary landed on top of him, the man’s weight practically crushing his spine. Root slowly sat up, trying his absolute best to catch his breath. Amary began to mutter things to himself as writhed on the ground, clutching his wound.

“Slow down, won’t ya?” Amary sighed, his eyes threatening to flutter shut.

Root grabbed him by his shoulders, trying his best to inch closer to a nearby bush. “Rest here, l’ll lead them away.”

“Like hell you are.” He muttered, gently laying against the cold earth.

The sounds of footsteps invaded his ears, slowly becoming louder and louder. All Root could do was stare down at his companion with a resentful expression, eventually turning around to tackle the responsibility of leading their foes elsewhere. He pushed past branches and bushes despite their ceaseless yelling, trying his absolute best to shake them off. Unfortunately his running was brought to an abrupt halt as his foot slipped down the unexpected dip in the ground below, effectively throwing him down as he had been countless times prior. 

Unrelenting, he swiftly stumbled to his feet again, continuing to push through the greenery. Eventually he found himself in a clearing, and without even bothering to look back he ran towards a nearby river, undoubtedly the one he and Amary had been searching for. Just as Root was about to lunge into the cool water he felt a sharp pain in his back, an unknown force driving his skull into the mud.

He caught a glance of his foe, all before her golden locks and crystal eyes faded into the depths of unconsciousness. 

~

All of the tossing and turning was jarring to her. With every motion the chains would rattle unpleasantly, accompanied by his mortified murmuring. The twisted against the shackle clamped around his wrist, his bandaged body shaking ever so sightly. It was unreal to her, seeing a man that had been so full of grit and determination turn to such a pathetic creature. A twinge of pity sparked in her chest as he let out a soft cry of fear, but she quickly shoved those emotions away. He was not to be trusted, not to be sympathized with.

Though she could only wonder, in the few seconds that she could have utilized to exterminate him, she hesitated. Upon hearing his plea for her to stop, her muscles had complied, and she froze like ice. His eyes were desperate as he held out a hand in an attempt to stop her from plunging the blade through his heart, and for a brief moment, he seemed akin to that of a fearful child.

𝘞𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶

She let out a soft sigh, giving the snake tightly wrapped around her arm a light pat on the head. 

This wasn’t right. 

~ 

The hefty scent of tea attacked his senses, as did the accompanying smell of what seemed to be a soup of sorts. Root opened his eyes slowly, gazing up at rafters made from leaves and jagged wood. While making an attempt to get up he was quickly pulled back onto the bed, and glanced down to see that his wrist was bound to the bed frame. The man heaved an aggrieved sigh, examining the chains with narrowed eyes.

“Don’t bother trying to get up.” A voice called, and he glanced across the room to see a blonde haired girl sitting on a stool, stirring a small pot with a ladle. 

“Who...are you?” He mumbled, using his free hand to rub his eye. 

She paused at Root’s inquiry, all before shooting him a cold glare. 

“I don’t have to tell you anything, man.” She replied, quickly returning her attention to the pot. 

“Can you at least answer one question?”

She pondered it for a moment, eventually giving a hesitant nod. 

“Fine.” 

“Where’s my friend?” 

Her pupils dilated, and she put a brief stop to her stirring. 

“...he’s in the other room.” She replied softly. 

“Are his wounds treated?” Root asked. 

“I told you I’d only answer one of your questions.” 

Root smacked his forehead with his free hand, muttering incoherent things. 

“I told you what you wanted to know, now let me ask you something in return.” She said. 

“I suppose it’s only fair.” He sighed. 

“Why are you here?” 

“Scouting the terrain.” He replied. “For our captain.” 

“Why?” 

“I answered one and you answered one. We’re even now.” 

She bit her lip in frustration, ruffling her hair with furrowed brows. 

“Fine, we’ll go back and forth to make it fair.” She quipped. “One for you and one for me.” 

“Alright, is my friend ok?” 

“His wounds have been treated, and he’s napping.”

Root let out a sigh of relief. 

“Why does your captain want you scouting around here?” 

“She wants to speak with your empress.” 

“Wh-“ 

“Wait your turn.” 

The girl crossed her arms, giving a ‘humph’ in response. 

“Alright, a very important question now. I’ll answer this one for you too.” He said, giving her a nod. “What’s your name?” 

She averted her gaze, staying completely silent. 

“Come on.” 

“...Marguerite.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m debating if I should show the designs for my Ocs so you know what they actually look like. Y’know, Considering I suck horribly at explaining how someone/something looks. 
> 
> (Please leave comments telling me what you liked, or how I can make this story better!)


	3. Thick and Thin

There were a lot of things that she didn’t want to do today. Getting up before the sun had risen, having to skip breakfast, and wandering through a disgusting jungle full of savages. Mantles wasn’t one to complain excessively, but as she pushed past through the never-ending greenery and swatted away troublesome insects, she couldn’t help but give an aggravated sigh at the whole situation. The older woman in front of her hadn’t even glanced at Mantles since their arrival, or even bother to utter a single syllable. 

Between their little journey through a feral jungle and the unresolved argument from earlier, Mantles was feeling particularly contrarian. 

“They’re probably not going to even listen to what we have to say.” Mantles called. 

Vervain said nothing and continued on, occupied with examining nearby plants. Mantles snapped her fingers, and the woman finally looked back at her with a quirked brow. 

“You say something, dear?” Vervain hummed, bending down to pluck a small daisy that lay at her feet. 

“Yes!” Mantles groaned, slapping her forehead. “God! You’re such a daft old prune!” 

“I’d like to think of myself as a crafty, ripe prune.” Vervain replied, shooting her subordinate a smirk. 

Mantles tugged at her hair with grit teeth, silently screaming to herself. 

“I know you’re not exactly in a good mood, but lighten up.” Vervain said, waltzing over to her. “I don’t want the empress thinking my crew is nothing but a bunch of sad sackin’ shits.” 

“What do you mean? I though we were meeting up with the boys.” Mantles replied. “By the south side?” 

Vervain gave the dainty flower in her hand a sniff, smiling widely to herself. Immediately, Mantles knew she was up to no good. 

“I changed my mind. You and me can just go and see her right now.” 

“What about Root and Amary? They’ll kinda just be waiting out there all alone.” 

Vervain reached into her pocket and pulled out a small transponder snail, promptly throwing it into Mantles’ hands. The long-leg barely caught it, the small snail fumbling around in her grasp as she desperately tried to keep it from hitting the ground. 

“Call Amary, tell him we’ll be changing our plans a bit.” 

Vervain turned back around and resumed her walk, whistling softly to herself as she continued through the thick trees and vines. Mantles stared down at the snail resting in her hands, quickly chasing after the woman. 

𝘙𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨

“C’mon you lazy bastard.” She muttered. 

~

𝘙𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨

𝘙𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨

𝘙𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨

He peeled opened his eyes at the continuous noise, letting out a pained grunt as he slowly sat up. His satchel lay at the far end of the bed, undoubtedly where it was coming from. Upon making an attempt to heave himself up on his feet, he was immediately pushed back against the bed. A cold hand firmly pressed against his bandaged chest, and as he glanced up he saw the faint outline of a woman, accompanied by a pair of sharp eyes. Amary wanted to speak, but all that came out was a spurt of soft wheezes. 

A small dagger was held at his throat, the cold metal sending a chill down his spine. Amary tried to resist, but she swiftly reached up to jab a finger into his wound, causing him to emit a pained groan. Tentatively, he laid his head back down and shot her glare. 

“Who’s calling?” She said in a hushed whisper, eyeing the small satchel. 

Amary stayed silent, unwilling to give her what she wanted despite his position. Unfortunately him answering or not didn’t matter, as she snatched the bag up anyway and began to rifle through it, eventually pulling out a small transponder snail. 

𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘬

“Amary, are you there?” Came a familiar voice, and he felt a bead of sweat drip down his forehead. 

She looked down at the snail with a perplexed gaze, and then back at Amary. They glared at each other for a long moment before she placed the snail on his chest. 

“Amary?” The voice repeated. 

She gave a curt nod, and he let out an annoyed sigh. 

“...yeah?” He wheezed. 

“Finally! God, you’re so damn slow!” She replied. “I called to tell you that Vervain changed the plans. We’re not meeting up on the south side.” 

Amary glanced up at his captor again, who gave another nod. 

“...What now, then?” 

“Me and her are gonna pay the empress a visit, said you and Root are allowed to go back to the ship if you want.” 

The woman’s lips parted slightly, and a look of horror passed over her face.

“We’ll head back, then.” 

“Alright.” 

𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘬

The knife instantly returned to its position at Amary’s throat, causing him to let out an exasperated wheeze. She gave him a scowl, face mere inches apart from his own. 

“Why are you here?” She muttered. 

“It’s not my place to say.” He replied.

“Were you sent by the government?” 

“Again, not my place to say.” 

The woman retracted the knife from his throat and placed the tip at his wound, a painful jolt shooting throughout the entirely of his right arm. 

“Threatening me with torture certainly won’t get you a better answer.” He muttered. 

“In that case, I’ll go and see if your friend reacts any differently.” She spat, making a move to leave. 

He quickly grabbed her forearm, effectively pulling her back. The dagger in her hand clattered to the floor and Amary used his last bit of strength to pull the woman closer, until her body landed atop his. She scrambled for the knife, desperately reaching an arm out in an attempt to snatch it up again. He locked his arms around hers, barely keeping her away from retrieving it. 

“My friend doesn’t need to be bothered with your squabble.” He hissed, continuing to counter her endless thrashing. 

“MAR-“ she tried to yell, but was abruptly cut off by his palm clasping around her mouth. 

“We aren’t dogs of the government, or some bastards trying to conquer your people.” He whispered, his grip around her body tightening. 

Slowly, her thrashing ceased, and Amary tentatively removed his hand from her mouth.

“What do you want with the snake princess?” She muttered. 

“My captain wishes to speak with her, me and my friend were merely following her orders to scout the area.” He replied, gently releasing her from his grip. 

The woman quickly rolled off him, landing on the floor with an unpleasant thump. 

“We don’t take kindly to intruders.” She mumbled, shooting him a glare. 

“I apologize on behalf of me and my friend.” He replied. “We didn’t wish to cause distress.” 

Her gaze softened, and she heaved a sigh as she down in a small stool next to the bed. Then, a small red snake emerged from under it and wrapped around her leg, trailing all the way up to rest it’s chin on her shoulder. Amary’s eyes widened as she casually gave it a pat on the head.

“How can I trust you?” She muttered. “How do I know you and your crew aren’t just here to bring Amazon Lily to ruin?” 

“My captain has no reason for doing something that extreme.” He replied, making an attempt to sit up. “It’d just be a big hassle.”

The sharp pain in his scapula returned, and he immediately laid back down.

“Enemy or not, men are still forbidden.” 

“Why keep me and my friend alive then?” 

The woman paused for a moment as if she was wondering the same thing. 

“My comrade insisted upon it.” She mumbled. “Apparently she saw something worth saving in you both.” 

“Lucky us for being at her mercy, then.” 

~

Marguerite gazed down at him with wide eyes as she gave his stomach a small pinch. He let out an annoyed grunt in response, and her expression immediately shifted from anticipation to confusion. Despite not getting the results she wanted, the girl continuously pinched him even as Root showed visible discomfort. 

“Please stop.” He sighed, making a futile attempt to wiggle away. 

“You don’t stretch...” she mumbled to herself. “Strange...” 

“Why would I?” 

“I thought all men had rubber skin.” 

Root blinked a few times, utterly boggled by her statement. He knew many Amazons were unaware of the qualities men held, but they couldn’t have been this uneducated, not to the point of absurdity. 

“I can’t speak for every man, but most don’t.” He said. “We usually have the same skin as women.” 

“Mine is smooth though, yours is rough.” She replied, giving him another poke. “Why’s that?” 

“I just get scratched up a lot.” 

Her face suddenly lit up, and she held her palms out to him in a giddy manner.

“Oh! Like my hands!” She exclaimed. “I have lots of callouses.” 

She placed a hand on Root’s shoulder, giving him a small pat. 

“...I suppose.” He replied. 

The Kuja girl retracted her hands, proceeding to occupy them with rifling through a small bag that lay at the foot of the bed. She then pulled out a small tin and looked back at him with a smile.

“This might help with your skin.” She said, scooting closer. 

“It’s alright, I’m fine.”

“You sure?” 

“Yes.” 

Somehow she misinterpreted his answer, and it didn’t take long before she was happily rubbing an unknown oil into his forearm. Root made an attempt to pull away, but had forgotten that he was still shackled to the bed. A hefty scent invaded his nostrils, a strange mix of lavender and mint.

“I thought you wanted me dead.” He said. “You’re being so kind.” 

“You didn’t want to fight despite me and Kikyo trying to kill you.” She replied. 

He raised an eyebrow as the name rolled off her tongue, and she immediately clasped a hand over her mouth with an embarrassed look. 

“Ah, I wasn’t supposed to...” she trailed off, giving herself a slap on the forehead. 

Root couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle. 

“You don’t have to worry about giving me information, I promise I won’t abuse it.” He reassured. 

“Oh, but you could be lying...” she mumbled, tugging at her blonde locks nervously.

“I’ll put my trust in you, I’m sure you could do the same for me?” 

Root held out his free hand and she stared at him for a long moment, all before gingerly grasping it. 

“We’re strangers now, but we could be friends.” He said. “I can prove to you that me and my companion mean your people no harm.” 

Before she was able to reply the sound of brisk footsteps cut her off, causing her to quickly turn around. Root glanced across the room as well, eyebrows practically jumping to the top of his hairline at the sight of another Kuja warrior standing by the hallway, with a dagger held tightly in her hands. 

“Marguerite, step back.” She said, easing herself forward warily. 

Root’s gaze shifted to his hand clasped around Marguerite’s, and he immediately pulled it away. 

“He wasn’t trying to hurt me, Kikyo!” Marguerite replied in a frantic manner, biting her lip nervously.“He was just...” 

The Amazon’s eyes widened, and her lips curled in disgust. Marguerite shook her head and reached out her hands, standing up to stop the woman as she inched closer. “H-he didn’t do anything like that either!” The two both glance back at Root, who could only stare back in bewilderment. Kikyo paused, lowering the blade. In turn Marguerite let out a sigh of relief, and comically, Root did as well. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this you know.” Kikyo muttered, seating herself at the end of the bed. “We can’t just...” Marguerite quickly sat down as well, placing a hand over her companion’s. “He gave me his word, he won’t harm us.” 

Marguerite turned back to Root and gave him a warm smile, immediately returning to her previous task of rubbing an unidentified oil into his skin. His eyes darted back to Kikyo, who was still seated at the end of the bed. 

“That friend of yours spoke of your captain wishing to talk with our empress.” Kikyo spoke, rubbing a thumb along the hilt of her knife. “He feigns ignorance regarding her intentions.” 

“He isn’t lying, and neither am I when I say that I know nothing.” Root replied, letting out a pained grunt as Marguerite’s palm accidentally brushed against a bruise along his chest. Kikyo turned around to face him, the glint of the blade flickering in his eyes. 

“You will stay here until the sun rises, afterwards, you will return to your ship.” She said, prompting a wide-eyed glance from Marguerite. 

“But they aren’t in the condition to-“ 

“Once the sun rises, Marguerite.” Kikyo repeated. “Don’t make me repeat myself.” 

In a swift motion, the woman stood up and fled to the darkness of the hallway, the faint sound of a door closing breaking the silence shortly after. Marguerite looked back down at Root with furrowed brows. 

“I’m sorry about her rude behavior...” she mumbled. 

“It’s fine.” Root replied, making an attempt to prop himself up on his elbow. “It’d be best if we left as soon as possible anyway.” 

“But it’s not!” the girl retorted. “You’re both in bad conditions, you can’t travel all the way back to your ship like this.” 

“As long as I have the energy to carry him back, we’ll be fine.” 

“We’re the reason you’re both injured in the first place, you need to stay until you’re better.” 

“As long as your cohort doesn’t want us here, there isn’t any chance of us staying past morning.” 

“I can persuade her.” She insisted, gently nudging him back against the bed. Root’s breathing hitched at the soreness enveloping the entirety of his body, and begrudgingly complied as he laid his head back against the pillow. “Then once you get better, you can meet everyone else.” 

He quirked an eyebrow at her last two words. Marguerite’s eyes widened suddenly, and she brought her hands up to cup her rose tinted cheeks. 

“...just rambling a little.” She mumbled. “Thought everyone in the village might like to meet you, y’know?” 

“If things go well, I don’t see why not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment to share your thoughts if you have any, I want to know how I can make this story as enjoyable as possible!

**Author's Note:**

> I’ll develop more of my characters over the next few chapters. 
> 
> (If you have any criticism, PLEASE leave a comment. I want to know what I can to to make this story better.)


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